Blaze
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: A reworking of the Valentine's Day fire at the warehouse.
1. 01

_**Note: **Six chapters long. Quotes from selected poems by the immortal Ghalib. Feedback is always appreciated. Story will contain heavy smut in the fifth chapter; version posted here will obviously be different and cleaner. To view the original chapter when it is posted and to view the banners I have made for this story, please click the link ot my site, Solo Ensemble, which is in my profile. Thank you.

* * *

_

**Blaze **

_** The scene, the one looking, and the ability to see are all the same.  
****If that is so, why am I confused about what is in front of me? **_

****

"That's fine, Mr. Man – you can sleep over at Teddy's. I'm sending Marco over with your pajamas and toothbrush, okay, baby? Don't stay up too late…Okay…Love you, too… Goodnight, Michael."

With a small smile, Carly Corinthos clicked the cordless black phone off and set it on the dining table, her pencil-heeled boots clicking on the floor as she strode into the kitchen to check on her frozen pizza. Sonny was still at the warehouse for some meeting – she still had a good twenty minutes to devour her processed dinner with just her one-liter bottle of Pepsi to keep her company. This was indeed the Valentine's Day gift she needed.

The pizza was done and she slid it carefully out of the oven, cutting it quickly and arranging the pieces on a plate that she then carried back to the table. The penthouse was empty tonight; the only other individual lurking around was Johnny outside the door.

"Ooh, I know," she murmured to herself, leaving her dinner to cool slightly and walking over to the entertainment center to pick out a CD. The only music that Sonny ever played was his Latin instrumentals or that goddamn _Godfather_ soundtrack; tonight was all about Madonna and her "Beautiful Stranger".

Hips swaying to the catchy and lively tune, Carly danced back over to her pizza and collapsed eagerly into the cushioned seat. She had just lifted up the first slice when the telephone, still perched on the lacy tablecloth, rang and interrupted her.

"Damn." Muttering to herself, Carly reached for it and clicked it on with one perfectly manicured nail. "Corinthos residence – Carly."

_"Mrs. Corinthos…"_

Her brows furrowed at the familiar voice. "Max? Is that you?"

"_Er, yes, ma'am, it is. Mrs. Corinthos, there's been…there's been a fire at the warehouse, ma'am."_

Her heart leapt to her throat.

"_Mrs. Corinthos, we're afraid…we're afraid Mr. Corinthos was inside at the time of the explosion."_

The slice of pizza fell from her hand, splattering steaming red tomato sauce on Sonny's favorite white tablecloth, and Carly nearly dropped the phone in shock as well. "No. Oh, Max, no…"

The bodyguard's voice cut through her choking gasp of a sob. _"The fire department is on their way and-"_

"I'm coming." Abruptly, she clicked off the phone and stood, not hearing the clattering noise that echoed through the silent penthouse when the cordless black device fell to the floor. It was February and freezing outside, but Carly didn't think to grab her down jacket. Instead, she grabbed the first coat she saw and flew out the door, an anxious Johnny hard on her heels.

* * *

The flames swirled higher, licking the murky night sky, brutally caressing it like a spiteful lover. And with each stroke, each lick, each tantalizingly cruel touch, Elizabeth's heart pounded harder, faster, a jackhammer in motion within the confines of her rib cage.

The warehouse was on fire.

Her heart hurled itself against her ribs, recoiling at the harsh impact only to repeat the motion again.

_Jason_.

He had left not two minutes ago, racing out of her studio and the safe confines of his invisibility therein. She could still feel the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. In comparison, the flames of the fire looked bitterly cold, and Elizabeth shivered as her nails began to dig into the soft skin of her palm.

_Jason._

She didn't hear the door to her studio open, but she did hear the loud, booming voice that issued forth from the guest. "Elizabeth!"

The brunette spun around from the window, the flames casting demonic, flickering shadows on the walls of her already dark studio. "L-Lucky."

A wide grin graced his face, making his pale blue eyes sparkle. "Hey, babe! Happy Valentine's Day!"

Numbly outstretching her arms as Lucky extended a bouquet of a dozen white roses, Elizabeth could only gape at him, unable to shake the chill that had suddenly paralyzed her body and immobilized her thoughts.

_Jason._

"Elizabeth?" Lucky had noticed that something was wrong, and his cool topaz eyes bore into hers, searching the depths of the warm sapphire orbs he had come to love so much. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

She was going to be sick. It just couldn't be happening again. Forcing the strength back into her knees, Elizabeth had to close her eyes to muster up the force to say the terrible words. "Oh, God, Lucky – the warehouse…it's on fire."

For the first time since he had arrived, the boy looked around and finally took in his surroundings. Sure enough, faint shadows were playing upon the brick walls of the studio, dancing about like a gleeful child. His eyes darted to the solitary window in the studio, his legs propelling him as if of their own volition. The sight that greeted him was one that he was ill-prepared for, and the awe-inspiring power of the vicious flames had Lucky backing away weakly from the windowsill.

"Oh, my God."

He felt Elizabeth move behind him and whirled around to see the look of fear still frozen on her face. "Oh, Elizabeth, the fire…Oh, my God, come here."

Wordlessly, she fell into his embrace, clinging to him like a lifeline. What Lucky mistook as grief from the barrage of memories when he himself was thought to be consumed by fire was instead grief over the fact that another man very close to her had raced off to do the same. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded timidly, knowing that he thought the fire was taking her back to the fire in Jason's garage so many years ago. And even though guilt threatened to seep through her – guilt at thinking only of Jason when she should be thinking about Lucky and everything that previous fire took from them – Elizabeth refused to succumb. "Let's – Let's go."

"Down there?" Lucky asked, peering down at her with surprise. Due to her past experiences with fire, he had figured she would want to stay as far away from the roaring blaze as she could. But there was something in her eyes – something he couldn't place, but something that told him she had to do this. "Okay. Let's go – come on."

He handed her a knee-length coat appropriate for the February chill, and she haphazardly pulled it on, still maintaining a hold on the forgotten flowers he had handed her. In less than a minute, Lucky had the door to the studio pulled open and gently guided a thoroughly rattled Elizabeth out before securing it behind him.

He didn't notice the few dark green leaves, wrinkled with veins and still shining from the dewy ambience at the florist's, that fell to the ground to be crushed underneath Elizabeth's thick black soles.

* * *

The smoke was oppressive; visibility had been reduced to a mere joke. As had breathing without obstruction.

Standing alone in what used to be a familiar office, Sonny Corinthos struggled to draw in a breath. He heard the yells of his men, still trapped in the building and frantically searching for a safe exit. He hoped to be with them when they found it, but now – now, he could barely move.

He half-stumbled, half-fell down the hallway, bracing his weight against the walls. There was a thick curtain of black smoke cloaking the entire vicinity, coaxing him not so gently to cough up his one remaining functioning lung. Sonny Corinthos had faced a lot in his young life – an abusive stepfather, cutthroat rivals, a dangerous business, numerous betrayals, and several assassination attempts. But for the first time in a long time, he was honestly afraid for his life.

He didn't know if he'd be lucky enough to make it out of this one – alive.

His chest heaved, lungs and throat burning with a fire fiercer and more painful than the one that raged in his warehouse, but Sonny knew he had to keep moving. If he rested – if he gave in and took a break – he'd be gone for sure. The smoke would drown him, pull him under to the dark, dense depths from which there would be no return.

The yells of the men were quieter now – he could barely hear them. Numbly and with the onset of unmistakable panic, Sonny wondered if that was because he was slowly weakening under the power of the blaze or if his men were, in fact, able to find a way out.

He preferred the second option, and continued to struggle blindly in what he hoped was the opposite direction of the flames. Images of Carly, images of his little red-headed son flashed before his eyes and Sonny fought that much harder to find a way back out to them. She would be worried and scared and lashing out at anyone that came within a ten-foot radius – he had to get out there to her and prove that he was just fine. Just fine. He was going to be just fine.

Awareness had fled long ago, replaced with a blind urge to find freedom – to keep moving and find _something_. And indeed, he had found something. Another office.

Another goddamn office.

Obsidian eyes wide and helpless, Sonny stood still and gazed around. He couldn't figure out if it was the same office he had just stood in. _Goddamn it, he just couldn't understand…_

A deafening roar pulsed through the building like a fatal thunderbolt, pulsing through the walls and the foundation and Sonny's own body. The fire similar to the one that set the building ablaze now set his senses ablaze; immobilized, Sonny could do little as the room lurched violently to the side. Furniture rolled, walls cracked, flames crept closer and closer, beams split and fell.

Oh, God.

The warehouse was collapsing.

* * *

"Oh, God." The fiery inferno that assaulted Carly Corinthos as she joined the melee at the warehouse sent out waves of blistering, forbidding heat. "Oh, God, no. Oh, no. Sonny! NO!"

Everything in her body pulsed at that moment, sending her rocketing forward in the direction of the blaze with little rhyme or reason. The searing heat waves probed her body, fanning out over her exposed face and hands, and she was certain that she would have stepped into the depths of the fiery hell to save her husband had a pair of strong hands not grabbed her and held her back.

"NO! My husband's in there! Sonny Corinthos – he's in there! You have to do something!"

"Ma'am, please." The officer's hands grabbed her tighter, a firm embrace to keep her out of harm's way. "We're doing all we can and-"

"Let go of me!" she spat out, hissing and recoiling from his touch only to try to launch herself back toward the flaming warehouse. "That's my husband in there!" A figure came barreling out of a clot of officers and caught Carly's eye; the man in the khaki-colored trench coat had made a habit of pursuing the people in her life, but now Carly was the one pursuing him. "Taggert!"

He spun around, not prepared to find her at the scene, and for a second his obsidian eyes revealed a type of helplessness that the Lieutenant was accustomed to hiding. "Carly."

She broke free from the cop that was still trying to hold her back from his commanding officer and latched onto the tall detective's lapel. "Taggert, Sonny's in there!"

"Carly-"

"NO! Sonny's in there – You have to get him out! Why aren't you getting him out of there?"

"Carly, please, we're doing all we can!"

She pulled him down, standing nose-to-nose as they stared each other down. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead and neck; the heat from the fire was making him sweat. It was making her shiver. "You're not doing enough!"

Taggert pulled himself away brusquely, motioning for an officer to hold her back as he went and found out just what the hell was keeping the firefighters from starting their battle. If one of the hydrants had frozen…then the warehouse would become a crypt.

He could still hear Carly yelling behind him, obviously struggling with the officer that was just doing his best to keep her a safe distance from the consuming flames. She was railing on against him, against the entire PCPD, as only Carly could – but the roar of the flames echoed through his head louder than Carly's pained screeching, and Taggert did his best to shut everything else out and do his job.

She was limp in his arms. The officer had his arms around her waist, supporting her weight, holding her up as Carly wept. A semblance of strength crept slowly into her knees, enough for her to break away from the officer and hold herself up enough to stare helplessly at the flames. They were so large now, dancing up to chase away the night air and boldly taunt the starry heavens. And the warehouse…the warehouse was being consumed.

Footsteps thundered over the pavement behind her, the strong running gait of an even stronger man, and some of the coldness that had paralyzed Carly's body lifted when she felt that unmistakable hand on her shoulder.

"Carly."

She knew who it was without even having to turn around but she did, toppling into the embrace she knew so well. "Oh, Jason, Jason…" He gripped her shoulders, shaking her roughly.

"Carly! Carly, talk to me!"

"Oh, Jason…Sonny. He's in there, Jason, you _have_ to get him out! Please, _please…_you have to get him out!"

Her blue coat stood out vividly against the tapestry of red and orange flames, and Jason could feel her shaking in his strong grasp. Cheeks dark from the drifting smoke, stained with the clear, slick paths of her tears, Carly clung to him, shaking him as violently as she could, begging him to save her husband. Her voice drifted soundlessly through his ears; all he could hear was the yells of the officers, the roar of the furious flames, the pounding of his own heart when he realized his boss and best friend was somewhere inside the inferno.

Jason's piercing cerulean eyes focused on his newest foe – the blinding and forbidding fire that licked the warehouse, embraced it in a white-hot hug. Everything else drifted away as easily as Carly's voice; he didn't hear the firefighters yelling that the hydrant had frozen over. He didn't hear two sets of footsteps that raced toward the scene, although he would have recognized one particular set without question before.

"I'm going in." He squeezed Carly's shoulders once, felt her claws bite into his biceps, and then he was off. Motorcycle boots thundering over the pavement, leather jacket open despite the February chill and flapping against his chest, Jason ignored the enraged shouts of Taggert and Capelli to stay out, to stay back. The only thing that mattered was getting in and finding Sonny – saving his boss the way Jason knew Sonny would save him if he had to.

Carly wrapped her arms around herself as Jason ran steadily into the wall of flames, knowing that two of the most important men in her life would soon be facing the same fiery end; they just had to make it out okay. They just had to.

Choking sobs overcame her body, her shoulders convulsing violently as her heart threatened to cut off her breath from its lodging in her throat. She felt someone move behind her but didn't turn to look; taking her gaze from the hypnotic flames had proved to be impossible long ago.

Lucky's wide eyes took in the scene before him; Carly was sobbing next to him, but he just couldn't recover from the power of the fire. It had taken out a good portion of the warehouse – how the place was still standing was beyond him. Whoever was still in there didn't have much time left, especially with the fact that the firefighters were having a hard time combating the damage done to the hydrants by the freezing temperatures. The scene was pure chaos – the shouts of men, the creaks and groans of the trucks and equipment, the wails of the warehouse as it prepared to fall, the sobs and gasps of spectators – but Lucky remained numb. It was so familiar…the warehouse fire…the garage fire, under the cover of which he had been kidnapped. There had always been something so hypnotic about the tall flames to him…

Next to him, Elizabeth had a firm grip on the bouquet of roses in one hand and his arm in the other, and Lucky felt an audible gasp rip through her, and at that instant her fingers tightened in a vice-like grip on his bicep.

Straining to see what she saw, he finally did, and his body tensed as well although for different reasons. So intent was he in concentrating on the scene that he entirely missed the look on Elizabeth's face. She looked as if she had been punched in the stomach; lips frozen in a silent gasp, knuckles turning white around Lucky's arm, eyes wide with shock and disbelief and grief, Elizabeth could hardly force herself to breathe.

Jason, now just a blur in a black-as-smoke leather jacket, had just disappeared behind the wall of flames.

_** I am willing to give up my breath and my life for you,  
****Even though I don't know the first thing about sacrifice. **_


	2. 02

**_The heart is an embarrassment to the chest if it's not on fire.  
Releasing a breath brings shame if it's not a fountain of flame. _**

****

"Jason. That's Jason, isn't it?"

Carly looked up at the harsh sound of her cousin's voice to where he and Elizabeth stood just a foot or two away. Her hiccupping-sobs were lost in the mêlée of the moment; around them, officers and firefighters alike raced back and forth, doing their best to combat the blaze.

"Yeah. It is."

Elizabeth turned slightly to face Carly when the older woman spoke and met her gaze dead-on. They stared at each other for a long moment, Carly still shaking with the force of her sobs and out-of-breath gasps, only to further lose it when Elizabeth's lower lip trembled. Lucky remained staring pensively at the fire, not noticing the exchange between the two women on either side of him.

It was perhaps the most surreal moment she had ever experienced; staring past Lucky to his cousin on his right, Elizabeth saw straight into Carly's soul. The pain, the raw anguish, the terrible fear, the desperate hope that had suddenly become the last bastion against the onset of unimaginable grief – she saw it all. And she was fairly certain Carly saw the same thing in _her_ eyes.

As quickly as that single moment of tolerant understanding had sparked between them, it was gone – Carly's eyes flew back to the warehouse when the building emitted a pained and very audible _crack_, the structure groaning as the right wing of the office began to collapse upon itself.

"Oh, God." Her lips, blue from the February frost despite the palpable heat waves washing over the scene, fell open on a silent gasp of terror, her eyes wide and unbelieving. "Oh, no. NO! SONNY! _NO_!"

Elizabeth didn't know what propelled her, didn't know how she found the strength to move, but all of a sudden, she found herself at Carly's side, grabbing frantically at the woman's bright turquoise coat as the blonde tried to launch herself toward the warehouse. _"SONNY!"_

"Carly! Carly, please!" she begged, obtaining a firmer grasp on her rival's flailing arms and using that coupled with all her strength to pull back, and almost pull the older woman off her feet.

_"SONNY!"_ Carly was still struggling, though her body was limper now, and Elizabeth struggled to keep her upright. Her own limbs trembling from fear, exhaustion, dread, and utter exertion in the below-freezing temperatures, she had no choice but to slowly lower Carly's trembling body to the ground, crouching next to her with her arms still around the woman's waist. "Oh, God, oh, Sonny, please…Please, God…_Sonny_…"

Lucky remained standing in place, lips pursed tightly together in a thin pink line, cold topaz eyes trained dutifully on the roaring, white-hot flames. He didn't flinch at Carly's cries of anguish, didn't notice that Elizabeth was sobbing herself while holding on tightly to her arch-nemesis; all the chaos blended into one hideous scene of utter pandemonium as the leaping, dancing flames held him riveted.

"Oh, Sonny," Carly sobbed weakly, shuddering and curling up into a ball against Elizabeth's side. The brunette, trying to muffle the sound of her own sobs, tightly wrapped her arms around the blonde's quaking shoulders. "My Sonny…Oh, _God_, please…"

"He'll make it out." She didn't know where she found the strength to speak. "You'll see, Carly – they'll both make it out."

Elizabeth half-expected her rival to suddenly realize her surroundings and launch herself away with a torrent of stings and insults, but instead she felt Carly's fingers burrow into her jacket. The woman's voice was weak and wavering when she finally spoke. "They have to…Oh, they just _have_ to."

Another loud, angry explosion came from the warehouse as the right wing collapsed entirely, immediately combusting in a wave of eager flames. The force of the heat caused Lucky to rock back on his heels, and Elizabeth's mouth fell open as she stared, hypnotized, into the inferno. The officers and firefighters alike were yelling frantically and desperately, stripping off their cumbersome gloves and jackets and welcoming the February chill as they worked together to get the water pumping from the frozen hydrants. But even as they scurried about like ants, their pace fast and frenetic, it was obvious that the fire was winning the race.

Carly hadn't even looked up when the right wing had collapsed; instead, she turned her face into Elizabeth's shoulder and hung on for dear life. The brunette barely felt the dig of her long nails as she watched the hypnotizing dance of the flames, the audacious leaps of armies of sparks. Dimly, she was aware of Carly whimpering through her sobs.

"Sonny, I'll make you a deal." She dared a peek out at the flames, her face ashen and dirty from the smoke. Her nose was bright red and running, but Carly just wiped it on the back of her palm and whimpered into the frigid night. "If you get out, Sonny, I'll promise you – no more frozen pizza. I promise, Sonny. No more pizza, and no m-more soda o-o-r brownies or cookies or…" Her voice broke on sobs and Elizabeth did her best to control her own trembling as she rested her cheek on Carly's hair. "Nothing but what you like, Sonny. For both me and Michael – I mean it; if you come out of there, you can feed us wheelbarrows of brussel sprouts, and, oh, God, Sonny, I swear to you we'll like it. Please…_you just have to come out_."

"Shhh-shh," Elizabeth soothed, gulping past the lump in her throat and hurriedly swiping at her eyes. Carly didn't need to see her crying – her husband was trapped inside and she didn't need anyone's grief but her own. "They'll come out, I know they will. They're not going to…" She couldn't even bear to finish the sentence. Staring up at the night sky, Elizabeth tried to glimpse the stars behind their veil of dense black smoke. It was difficult, but she finally saw them twinkling, far off in the heavens. Carly's sniffles were soft as Elizabeth closed her eyes in silent prayer. _"Please, Jason, you have to come out."_

Carly sat silently, practically collapsing into Elizabeth's petite body, and made no move to pull herself up. She heard Elizabeth make a prayer for Jason; she could almost see those reverent and hopeful words float up past the smoke to the merciful stars in the far-off distance. Her fingers wrapped around Elizabeth's arms, either anchoring herself or the brunette. She didn't know. And somehow, it didn't seem to matter anymore.

The fire blazed on.

The seconds ticked by, and Elizabeth could hear her own heart hammering away in her ribcage. Every second that passed…marked every single second that Sonny and Jason spent trapped in that fiery tomb.

She had only seen his back as he raced off into the flames; he was dressed in his usual blue jeans paired with those motorcycle boots she could recognize from a mile away. It had been impossible not to see him, the way he ran into those flames like a gallant knight. And that was in a sense exactly what he was – he had gone in there to rescue his boss from the flames, to rescue his best friend from bereavement, to rescue the little boy he once considered a son from the pain of a life without his father figure. He had gone in there because that was what Jason did; he took care of everyone else, even if it meant that he didn't get to take care of himself.

And despite everything that he had going on in his life right now, Jason _still_ risked everything to save Sonny.

Tears pricked her eyes once more as Carly's nails dug into her shoulder again, and Elizabeth painfully swallowed past the lump in her throat. Oh, God, she couldn't lose another man to a fire. She just _couldn't_. He was held captive in a tomb of flames, and she didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to him…

Carly flinched when Elizabeth viciously shook those thoughts away. No – she'd never say goodbye to him. It was only "I'll see you later", and at this moment, she wasn't even ready to say that. Because he would come out – he _would_.

A chorus of triumphantly weary yells broke her from her trance, and both Carly and Elizabeth's frightened eyes flew to the large mob of firefighters and police officers. The fire hydrant had been freed from the grips of the February frost. A relieved sob escaped Carly's lips as she watched several burly cops, all relieved of their winter coats but nevertheless sweating, fasten the hose and start the water.

And then the firefighters took over, swarming the scene and targeting specific sections of the building with the powerful torrents of water. The fire hissed and gurgled but refused to give, spewing angry armies of sparks and embers high into the air. A fine mist clouded the crisp air, freezing into tiny droplets of ice and lightly dusting the ground. Unmindful of the harsh conditions, the Port Charles Police and Fire Department continued to wage a valiant campaign against the flames, trampling hurriedly and desperately over the freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.

"See?" Elizabeth's voice was weak and obscured as she numbly rubbed Carly's upper arms, trying to rouse her alarmingly silent rival. "See? They've got it working – it's working! They'll put the fire out!"

"And Sonny and Jason…" Carly was struggling to move and leaned heavily into Elizabeth as the younger brunette helped her to her feet, keeping one arm around her waist to support her frame. "They're going to be fine. Oh, Elizabeth, they're going to make it!"

"They're going to make it," Elizabeth agreed tremulously, not bothering to swipe away the tears that were already freezing on her jaw line. "They'll get out in time."

Lucky whistled under his breath as the flames continued to lick the building, hissing angrily at the water that dared to stop their advance. "It's really coming down," he muttered under his breath, not noticing the glare of pure disbelief that his girlfriend directed at him. "Holy #."

Elizabeth's nails bit into the skin of Carly's hands as the two women stood stock still, holding their breath as the firefighters advanced menacingly with the hoses. The seconds that ticked by bled into eternity; still, the fire raged on.

"I don't get it-" Carly's voice was raspy and drenched with panic. "Why isn't it working? Why aren't they-" She stopped, having spied Taggert, and Elizabeth wasn't prepared when the blonde recalled her strength and tried to launch herself toward the detective. "TAGGERT!"

He didn't look away from the task at hand, and Elizabeth kept Carly back at a safe distance. "It's okay, it's okay…"

Only it wasn't.

The fire raged on; the firefighters hadn't gained an inch. Carly was attempting to pull away from Elizabeth's grasp, but the dancing flames held her in place, completely hypnotizing her the way they had Lucky. Elizabeth's midnight blue eyes, stinging from the smoke, continued to dart from point to point, searching every available entrance for any sign of Sonny or Jason. She saw nothing past the blinding fire.

A deafening roar issued forth from the building, and as Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat, Carly let out a piercing cry of anguish. The firefighters retreated as the central structure trembled and groaned before slowly collapsing inward. Lucky trembled in front of them, his limbs visibly shaking, and Elizabeth was almost pulled down to the ground as Carly's weight bore down on her body.

Her own strength fleeing from her body, Elizabeth's hands limply slipped from Carly's arms, and the older woman struggled to stay upright. Taggert was talking with his officers, his face grim and his jaw tight. The firefighters were still doing their best to combat the blaze and were torn between their will to hose the entire inferno down and the fear that the pressure and force of the water would only cause the building to collapse more quickly.

Lucky remained unmoving as Taggert approached reluctantly. Something pushed the Lieutenant to walk slowly toward Carly – something he didn't understand but obeyed nevertheless. Also, he had a feeling that if he didn't go talk to her, she'd come tearing after him and rip the entire force to shreds if she could.

Behind him, the firefighters were still aiming but abruptly lessened pressure when the building creaked once more, sections exploding violently in a brilliant spray of sparks and embers. Carly watched numbly, her entire body shaking as a terrific tremor ripped through it, as Taggert approached. His face was ashen and his clothes grimy from the soot and smoke, and the detective's dead eyes fell reluctantly on the two women, still standing close together.

The warehouse screamed in agony once more under the force of the flames as Taggert forced himself to speak. "The place is coming down."

Carly's brown eyes gleamed with murderous intent; had she the strength, she would have gone for the Lieutenant's jugular for what he dared to suggest. "Stop it – do something to stop it."

A silent sob ripped through Elizabeth's shoulders when she saw the dejected set of Taggert's shoulders. The Lieutenant – usually so full of energy and venom – was losing hope and fast. "Taggert, no…"

"There's not much we can do anymore." His voice was soft and tightly drawn, and unseen to them, his hands hidden away in his pockets were clenched into unforgiving fists.

"Yes, there is!" Carly was almost beside herself with grief and rage, an interlaced dynamic that managed to pump strength back into her atrophic limbs. "That's my husband in there! You have to-"

Taggert drew in a deep breath and his next words, though soft, stopped Carly cold. "I'm sorry. But there's nothing we can do anymore."

**_What we think is obvious is so far beyond our comprehension.  
We are still dreaming even when we dream we are awake. _**


	3. 03

_**While telling the story, if each eyelash does not drip with blood  
You're not telling a love story, but a tale made for the kids **_

****

"There's nothing we can do anymore."

Just as the flames were slowly destroying the warehouse, Taggert's words destroyed Carly. The tall detective stood helplessly, beaten and weary from the combat, as the shivering blonde stared up at him in disbelief. Her body, tired and abused under the maddening assault of immediate grief, gave way to tears in shudders, and Taggert looked away with shame as the woman crumpled to the ground.

Elizabeth wanted to help, she wanted to assist the fallen blonde, but her own limbs were locked in place as she herself fought to comprehend what Taggert had said. _What did he mean?…He couldn't be saying that…_

Lucky appeared at her side just then, holding the roses that she had handed to him when Carly had broken down before, but Elizabeth barely noticed his presence. "Taggert – what are you saying? What about the hydrant?-You guys just got it working!"

The lieutenant shook his head sadly. When he spoke, his voice was tight and thick. "It's not doing enough. Ideally, we want several hydrants positioned around the warehouse, but they're frozen. We've been working to get them functioning again, but…" He turned slowly, as if his limbs were feeling age for the first time, and gazed forlornly at the defiant flames. "The water pressure is making it collapse even faster. We're targeting specific areas, but…we've got to be prepared for the worst."

Carly looked up then with murder in her eyes as his quiet words hit her like a ton of bricks. Elizabeth was still paralyzed in place as the tall blonde launched herself up from the pavement and directly at the lieutenant. "Liar! You monster! What did you do? Why didn't it work? This is all your fault, Taggert! ALL YOUR FAULT!"

To his credit, Taggert didn't push her away or even reply to her bitter accusations, each one torn straight from her soul as she hit and scratched at him. Instead, he gently put his hands on her shoulder and stepped away, untangling himself from her tearing grip, and when he was certain she'd be able to stand, he let go and silently walked away.

"Damn," Lucky muttered, rubbing his freezing hands together. "No one knows anything." His cold topaz eyes scanned the scene quickly, falling on the police commissioner. "Whoa – there's Max," he said, absently shoving the roses back into Elizabeth's arms. "I'm going to go see if he knows anything."

Elizabeth was still watching Carly as her boyfriend left. The woman was trembling visibly, her body convulsing violently as she choked hard on her sobs. It just couldn't be happening…a couple hours ago, Jason was tucked safely away from the dangers of the world in her studio. They were talking, she was giving him the fudge she'd made, he was giving her that red glass…

Terrified, Elizabeth's hand instantly darted to the pocket of her jeans. _Oh, please, God, it has to be here…_ Relief flooded through her when she found the slick glass object. Her fingers closed tightly and protectively around it. Come what may, she'd always hold that piece of glass with her; she'd guard it as fiercely as she had guarded Jason that winter he'd been shot.

Her gaze drifted back to the warehouse, hopelessly following the curls of dense, dirty smoke as they climbed high and assimilated into the crisp night sky. The stars still twinkled back, and the merry little sight brought tears to her eyes. She thought she was going to be sick. It was so wrong…_this_ was so wrong. Jason couldn't be trapped in that burning building…this wasn't how she wanted it to end, damn it!

She had so much she still wanted to say to him; so much she still _had_ to say to him. This couldn't be how it all ended – that would be too cruel. They still had so much to talk about. "Get out of there, Morgan," she whispered to the stars. "You were always so great at listening – listen to me now and get out of there. There's so much you need to hear and I…" Her voice broke, fresh tears racing down her pale cheeks as a slight wave of vertigo washed over her again. "I need you to get out of there, Morgan."

The thorns on the long-stemmed flowers pricked her fingers, and though the pain raced acutely through her, it felt dull to Elizabeth. And just because she wanted to feel _something_, she purposely pricked her soft fingers again, searching for that same dull pain.

Carly had curled into a little ball, hugging her knees to her chest as she wept. Thoughts of Michael, thoughts of their last Christmas together as a family inundated her; incredible guilt washed over her as she remembered how she had been happy that Sonny was at the warehouse so that she could enjoy her damn pizza. She'd never eat pizza again. And she'd never listen to Madonna again, either. From now on, it was all Latin instrumentals and the _Godfather_ soundtrack.

She felt Elizabeth trudge up a few steps closer, standing behind her, but wasn't about to turn to the young woman again. Right now, all she wanted was to sit alone in front of the blazing inferno that had devoured her husband and her best friend. Her nails bit into the palms of her hand, drawing blood from tiny half-moon cuts, but Carly didn't even notice. The pain inside was far more palpable than the stinging in her hands.

Lucky chose that moment to walk back, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He frowned when Elizabeth didn't look up when he found her side, but shook it off. "Mac was a bit more optimistic than Taggert – he says they're doing everything they can to target the flames without causing the building to collapse."

He saw her swallow thickly, still staring desperately out at the blaze for any signs of the two men inside. "But he did say that things weren't looking so good."

Elizabeth closed her eyes at that, wanting more than anything for Lucky to be quiet. Another wave of nausea washed over her, causing her stomach to roll and her head to feel light.

"It's kinda funny, though." Lucky's voice cut through her attempt to fight off illness as the boy stared hard at the warehouse. "Jason just got back into town and already something's happened. I guess that's just what happens when you kill for a living – you go the same way."

Elizabeth turned for the first time and stared hard at his stern profile, this time _knowing_ that she was going to be sick.

* * *

"Sonny! _Sonny_!"

Sonny Corinthos struggled to rouse himself, to find some semblance of consciousness as he lay trapped beneath a heavy wooden beam. "J-Jason?"

"Sonny!"

It really was Jason. His heart leapt into his throat; his best friend had come to help him. Shaking his head briskly, Sonny had to hold his breath when white-hot pain shot through his body. As it slowly alleviated, he tested his voice, calling out to his partner. "Jason! Jason, I'm in h-here! Jason!"

Like Hercules ascending from Hell, Jason Morgan appeared from behind a curtain of dirty smoke. He was dirty and bruised, covered with glass and a sprinkling of cuts, but he was there. And Sonny had never been so glad to see him.

"Sonny!" Jason quickly scanned a gaze around the room, looking for the safest route to his friend. Furniture, glass, beams, and plaster were everywhere, and Jason minced across the debris to his fallen friend. A heavy oak rafter was pinning him to the floor, and Jason worked quickly to move it. "Come on, man, you've gotta help me here," he coaxed his best friend, afraid that the man would lapse into unconsciousness once more.

Sonny grunted and untangled his arms to help push the rafter away. His suit sleeves were ripped and blackened, and he had cuts on his hands and head, and most likely some sort of concussion. Jason strained away at the wooden beam, sweating from exertion and the flames that licked the building. It took every last bit of his strength to persuade the rafter to budge, and slowly, he moved it an inch. And then another. Sonny squirmed, finding better leverage to assist his friend and together they pushed again, slowly moving the beam and relieving the pressure on Sonny's lower limbs.

With a grunt, Jason repositioned his hands under the beam and lifted, his muscles quivering and threatening to buckle under the exertion. Thankfully, the beam moved just enough off his friend to enable Sonny to crawl out from under it like a crab, wincing painfully from the movement. As soon as he was out, Jason let the beam fall with a crash, his legs trembling from the great burden. As he caught his breath and calmed his mind, Sonny was testing his legs.

"You okay?" Jason wheezed, coughing against the smoke. "You think you can walk?"

"I-I think so," Sonny choked back, using a fallen desk to hoist himself up. He hissed painfully when his legs accepted his weight, and then Jason was at his side, lifting one of his arms over his own head and wrapping the other around his waist. Sonny took a deep breath and let Jason help him up completely and together they moved for the door.

The warehouse creaked as it slowly but surely succumbed to the flames, and Jason knew there wasn't much time left.

"Come on, Sonny, we're getting outta here."

The older man grunted and wheezed, hoping he hadn't just sentenced his best friend to a premature death as well.

* * *

She couldn't believe him. She could _not_ believe that Lucky Spencer had stood there and announced right in front of her and Carly that Jason and Sonny deserved what they got for the lifestyle they had lead. She wouldn't blame him entirely if that was how he really felt, but common decency and common _sense_, on top of that, dictated that such views be kept to oneself at the moment, and especially in front of the likely bereaved widow.

He turned to look at her then, his eyes cold and blank, and was surprised by the intensity of her glare. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he offered here one simple word. "What?"

Elizabeth's heart thudded painfully in her chest as she stared back at him, her mouth set tight. With a small shake of her head, she turned her face away in disgust and stepped forward. The thorns from the roses pricked her fingers once more but this time she didn't feel it at all.

In front of her, Carly was slowly pulling herself together. Hands spread on the pavement, the blonde was doing her best to push herself up off the ground. After a few tries, her shaky legs finally held her weight and she stood slowly, wobbling and still trembling. Her hair was down and in her face, sticking to her mouth and the slick paths of her tears, and her skin was pale and dry. Smoke had smudged her face and dulled the bright color of her turquoise coat and she gingerly brushed herself off before wrapping her arms around her waist, hugging herself tightly and trying to quell her shivering.

She didn't even spare the burning building a glance; she just couldn't bear it. Keeping her gaze glued to the pavement, Carly did her best to keep her balance. She wasn't even sure at this point if it had all sunk in yet; the fact that Sonny was…gone just didn't register. Just this morning they had woken up in bed together and made love in the shower, and then they had argued when she'd tried to give Michael a Pop-Tart for breakfast, and she wound up throwing a coaster at his head while he cooked her son a "proper breakfast".

All that, it couldn't just be…gone.

Scuffed footsteps had her turning, and her own raw eyes met Elizabeth's wide red-rimmed ones. Time seemed to stop again as the two women, now both weary and desolate, stared at each other, wondering who would make the first move or if there was even a move to make. Elizabeth looked away, blinking her tears back, and Carly's gaze drifted down to the brunette's hands. In her arms she held an oversized bouquet of red roses. In her right hand, she thought she saw something red sparkle.

A chorus of yells, loud, disjointed, broken but joyful, brought her from her surreal musings and both Elizabeth and Carly whipped around to see what the commotion was for. The firefighters and officers alike had catapulted into activity, beckoning forth paramedics who were frantically setting up their equipment and as the sea of bodies cleared, Carly saw why.

Sonny and Jason had emerged from the building.

Blackened with smoke, wheezing, bruised and cut and barely able to stand up – but still, there they were.

Carly's heart jumped to her throat and the sigh of joy and relief that escaped her nearly sucked the wind out of her body. Her tired eyes, abused from the smoke and the heat and the frigid winter air, squinted at the scene as she made sure she wasn't seeing things.

But there they were – her husband and her best friend.

She took one step forward, then another step, wobbling slightly as she extended her arms. Sonny's arm was around Jason's neck and he leaned forward when his best friend let him go, trying to stand on his own two feet. A choked sob escaped Carly's lips and Sonny's obsidian eyes flew up to hers. Biting back the pain, he slowly forced himself upright and held out his hands.

And then she was in his arms. He almost didn't mind the pain as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly behind his neck and sobbing into his chest. Sucking in a deep breath that sounded more like a hiss of pain, Sonny held her close and buried his face in her tawny mane. The cries of the officers and firefighters and EMTs all began to blend into the background as the two held each other in front of the roaring blaze.

Jason's knees had buckled beneath him as soon as he let Sonny go. He didn't realize it, but his best friend had been holding him up just as much as Jason had been holding the older mobster up. He felt an officer try to brace his fall as he hit the pavement, and Jason thought he'd hack up a lung as he tried to clear his throat of the burning smoke.

Finally, when he felt he could breathe, he felt his gaze unconsciously lifting. And there, in the smoke and the haze and the flurry of activity stood the woman he'd been with not two hours ago. There, dressed in a black coat with her vivid red shirt plainly visible underneath, her pale face smudged with smoke and a bunch of white roses in her arms, stood Elizabeth.

The light from the fire as it gurgled under the spray of water made her skin glow like an angel, and Jason's heart almost stopped when he looked into her eyes. They were wide and fearful, but he could see something else shining there in the sapphire depths. Relief. Awe. Heartbreak. Longing. He recognized the myriad of feelings as the ones that he was certain were plainly visible in his own eyes.

Still crouched on the ground, an officer poised behind him to help him to his feet when he decided to rise, Jason Morgan couldn't breathe. And this time, it had nothing to do with the smoke.

A few paces away, Elizabeth's heart constricted painfully in her chest. He was here. He was out. He was safe. _Oh, thank God, Jason was safe_. Her fingers tightened around the glass as she watched him, wanting nothing more than to run into his arms and burrow into his strong chest and just hold him for hours. She wanted to touch him, feel his wild untamed spikes when she ran her hands through his hair, wanted to smell the buttery leather of his jacket and his manly scent of soap and pine trees. And the wind. He always smelled like the wind.

But her limbs were locked in place as Jason's eyes rose to meet her own. She wasn't sure what she saw in his eyes – in some sense, she was afraid of what she saw there. She saw in his eyes the same thing that _she_ felt. The longing, the angst, the relief. The way he was looking at her made her want to sink to the pavement and weep. But she was paralyzed in place with the fear of those feelings. She shouldn't be feeling this way.

But as Carly wept in Sonny's arms not too far away, Elizabeth didn't care. She felt what she felt, and she had tried to fight it for too long. And that had almost cost her everything.

And she didn't want to lose any more.

She blinked her eyes free of tears and really looked at him. Officials were running around, the fire was fighting bitterly against the spray of water, the paramedics were moving in, and Jason stood right in the thick of it. And yet he only had eyes for her.

Elizabeth had only to blink to recognize that unnamed emotion swirling in the depths of his red-rimmed, piercing cerulean orbs. She stumbled back a step when it hit her, the realization taking her breath away.

Passion.

Her heart hurtled itself against her ribs, recoiling upon impact only to hurtle itself forth once more, and Elizabeth felt her limbs grow weak. The rest of the world faded away as she focused numbly on Jason, who had yet to move. Deftly, she was aware of the mêlée in the background, but none of it really registered as that light-headed feeling swept over her once more.

Her hands, closed so firmly around the bouquet, began to tremble under the heat of his longing gaze. She knew what he wanted. She thought she wanted it, too. And just like that, her world began to swim before her eyes. The roses sagged as her hands relaxed their tenacious grip, and that was the breaking of the dam. Her fingers slipped from their interlocked twine, her hands falling limply to her sides as the roses slipped past, snagging on her coat before crashing in a jumbled mess of white petals and thorns on the cold, wet, black pavement.

And when the roses fell, so did she.

_**Your hesitation indicates that the thread you had tied is weak;  
You would never have broken the thread had it been strong. **_


	4. 04

**In the first skirmish of the love battle, I got wounded in the feet.  
****Now I can neither run away nor remain standing up. **

His heart slammed painfully against his ribs as those roses came crashing to the cold pavement. But Jason never removed his eyes from hers. She was staring at him with a myriad of emotions swimming in the depths of her beautiful sapphire orbs, illuminated by the last dance of the flickering fire. Her fingers were still poised to hold the flowers that lay in a heap at her feet, and her full lips were parted as they stared at each other across the pavement.

The ground was wet under Jason's hand and he was shivering. But he couldn't accept the help of the officer at his side that stood ready to help him to his feet. He couldn't move. Not with the way Elizabeth was looking at him.

Her heart had found new lodging in her throat and was thundering painfully, so loud that she was certain everyone at the scene must have heard it. Smoke billowed around her, the last plea of an angry blaze that saw imminent extinction. Slowly, hesitantly, she tried to wobble up a step.

Jason's heart thundered as he watched her small body sway faintly. He was barely aware of it, but the look in his startlingly blue eyes _begged_ her outright to come to him, to fall to the ground and throw her arms around his neck and let him hold her. That was all Jason wanted, that was all he hoped for as his and Elizabeth's eyes remained locked together while the blaze fizzled out under the steady pressure of the firefighters' hoses.

Elizabeth's body leaned forward, as if magnetically drawn to Jason's crouching form, and just as the thick soles of her black boots were about to press firmly down on the pile of white roses that lay forgotten at her feet, a strong set of arms reached out and held her in place.

Jason looked as if someone had struck him when Lucky Spencer appeared at Elizabeth's side like a phantom, holding her back firmly. She was about to come to him – he was sure of it. Hadn't she just leaned forward? Hadn't she tried to take a step?

He blinked, trying to force himself to meet her gaze but unsure what he would find there. Maybe he was mistaken – maybe the smoke was playing tricks on his raw eyes and she _hadn't _really moved at all. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe.

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat when Lucky's strong hand grabbed her elbow. Soon, his other arm was snaking around her waist and anchoring her to him. Her hitched breath made her choke as he suddenly imposed on her freedom, but she couldn't force any sound out of her mouth. She just gaped back at Jason, lips parted on a silent gasp, as Lucky pulled her back.

The pain she saw in his eyes barely registered in her shock; had she been thinking clearly, she would have seen that all the energy seemed to depart from Jason's strong body, leaving him weak and broken on the wet and freezing pavement.

Lucky stooped, his hold around her waist forcing her to accommodate his movement and Elizabeth numbly crouched on the ground next to him as he picked up the roses she had dropped and hastily pushed them into her arms. And then he was standing up quickly, using his grip on her waist to tug her up as well.

Jason couldn't breathe as he watched Lucky pull Elizabeth back and lead her away until they disappeared behind a wall of officers and firefighters. It felt like an iron fist had closed around his heart, squeezing the life out of it and leaving him cold and unfeeling.

He gritted his teeth as he let his head fall forward. The cries of the swarming officers and the soft sound of Carly weeping in Sonny's arms faded away into the background; all Jason could feel was the roaring fire in his own badly abused limbs. Elizabeth's longing gaze had made the pain almost fade but now that she was gone, the physical pain had become too much to bear. His chest trembled as he tried to force strength into his weakened limbs, but Jason soon abandoned it as a futile quest.

She was gone.

And remarkably enough, that hurt more than his bruised and broken body.

Elizabeth's mind had yet to kick in as Lucky steered them both through a maze of policemen, paramedics, and curious spectators. Her limbs were numb, moving as if of their own volition as her boyfriend led her farther and farther away from the man still crouched on the pavement, the man that she could no longer see. And with each step, something in Elizabeth began to scream, louder and louder, until finally the numb haze around her mind cleared and she began to show the first signs of struggle.

Lucky mistook those signs as a weakness, the fragility of her tired limbs, and tightened his hold on her as he continued to shoulder his way through the crowd. As they neared the outskirts of the curious cluster of onlookers, Elizabeth was grinding her heels into the pavement in an attempt to get him to stop.

They shouldered their way through the last of the crowd and Lucky finally came to a stunned stop. There, two paces in front of him stood his cousin. She was still dressed in her vivid turquoise coat now blackened by the smoke, and her hair fluttered in the freezing wind. She remained motionless, staring at the scene before her: there, sitting on the fender of an ambulance was Sonny.

Elizabeth's eyes softened as they fell on the older man. He looked like hell. His black curls, always neatly gelled back, were wild and free and looking singed in certain spots. A paramedic had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders but still the mobster was shivering. He had a nasty gash on his leg where the beams had struck him, and the pant leg of his custom-made Italian suit was rolled up around his knee as the paramedic cleaned up the blood.

Slowly, Elizabeth and Lucky edged forward. Carly felt them approach but couldn't for the life of her tear her eyes away from her husband, as if fearing that if she did he'd vanish once more into the thick dark smoke that coated the scene still. Standing next to her, Elizabeth could see the older woman's shoulders trembling with dry, silent sobs of relief. No tears spilled forth from Carly's brown eyes; instead, she wore a small, watery smile as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and watched the EMTs clean her husband up. They were telling him that they'd have to take him to the hospital to get checked up completely – he'd be likely to need stitches in his leg and he probably had a concussion, neither of which they could treat there as quickly and adequately as the hospital could.

Sonny's obsidian eyes flew to Carly's as he nodded to the paramedics without removing them from his wife. She smiled softly back, the warmth in her eyes telling him that she'd take him to the hospital, all right, and she wouldn't leave his side until they discharged him. She'd have to call Michael soon, she was afraid; hopefully, the little boy was already asleep and hadn't seen the live broadcasts from any of the television news agencies that had swarmed the scene. With any luck, she'd be able to talk to Teddy's mom and ask her to keep her son with her for a little longer, just until Sonny was patched up and back at home. She didn't want to scare her son with any more details than she absolutely had to.

A young paramedic with a buzz cut was speaking seriously to Sonny, and Carly took a quick moment to glance at Elizabeth out of the corner of her eyes. No words were exchanged, but she saw Elizabeth return the glance. Something had transpired between her and the Goody-Goody-Muffin-Face tonight, but Carly didn't know what it was. There had been a grudging respect between them as they shelved their dislike in the face of possible tragedy. A sour taste invaded her mouth as the blonde reflected that Elizabeth had been just as worried about Jason as she herself had been about Sonny.

The sour taste vanished the instant Sonny's eyes caught hers and he grinned wearily, flashing those damned dimples at her. Carly melted immediately – he could get her to walk across hot coals with just one sexy grin. She sighed softly, her eyes lingering lovingly on his tired and torn body, then shuffled awkwardly as she sneaked another glance at Elizabeth.

The brunette happened to catch it and looked solemnly back, confused when the corners of Carly's mouth curved. "I guess I won't be having any more pizza ever."

The soft words brought an instant smile to the brunette's chapped lips. "Isn't it worth it, though?"

"One thousand times over."

Both women watched the Cuban mobster as he rearranged the blanket around himself, wincing when one of the young paramedics spread an ointment around one of his worse burns. It was so miraculously that he was actually alive and mobile – a true miracle.

And Carly knew that. Slowly, she turned her face ever so slightly in order to see Elizabeth's soft profile. "We were close tonight."

The brunette nodded, knowing who Carly meant by 'we'; both Sonny and Jason had come very close to a fiery end.

"And I'd have given up anything to have him be all right," Carly continued softly. "And he is." Elizabeth smiled tremulously, still watching Sonny. The blonde at her side bit the inside of her cheek as she thought, making sure to keep her voice so low that Lucky had to strain to pick up her words. "I've been prepared for these moments since I married him. I knew that at any minute, something or someone could take Sonny away from me."

A peculiar warmth washed over Elizabeth, yet it made her shiver. There was something about the way Carly was speaking, the message behind her soft words, that gave the brunette an almost out-of-body feeling. The fire had been extinguished and Hell had frozen over – Carly Corinthos was actually being civil to her. And Elizabeth didn't plan on ruining the moment; besides, she could sense that the older woman had something important to get off her chest before they could go back to their sparring ways.

"But I also knew that I had to make the most of every moment I had until that _someone _or _something _took him," the blonde whispered. "And that's what you do – you can't stop being afraid, you can't stop being cautious. But you've gotta live through the good times because they make it all worth it. You can't live in fear of that last moment; you have to grab what you can when you can and hold on like hell."

Elizabeth stiffened, not able to believe that she had heard right, and the blonde slowly turned completely to face her.

"Grab what you can and hold on like hell."

And with that, the moment of mutual respect vanished and Carly turned on her heel and walked straight into Sonny's waiting arms. They embraced on the fender of the ambulance as Elizabeth and Lucky watched, holding each other tightly until the paramedics ushered them into the ambulance for the drive to General Hospital.

Lucky snorted as soon as Carly's turquoise coat vanished behind the white doors of the ambulance and tightened his grip on Elizabeth's waist, fully intending to drag her away from the scene and back to her studio where they could spend the rest of their special day in peace. After all, that was quite enough excitement for one night.

But Elizabeth had other ideas. The instant he tried to steer them both away, she turned and placed a hand firmly on his chest. Lucky's pale topaz eyes flew down to hers, startled and confused, but Elizabeth's midnight blues glittered with determination and purpose.

"Lucky." Her voice was calm with just a touch of frost. "We have to talk."

Taggert's dark brown eyes swept wearily over the scene before him. The fire had been completely extinguished a while ago and the warehouse lay in shambles. The special division had been called in to comb the wreckage for remains, and so far they had recovered four casualties – all of whom seemed to be either bodyguards or nameless underlings. There would be more, he was certain – for some of the deceased victims, he was sure that they wouldn't even find bodies, just ashes.

And Jason Morgan and Sonny Corinthos had escaped with just a few scratches.

His head thundered painfully and Taggert numbly rubbed the back of his neck with one strong hand. Sonny had already been taken to General Hospital to be checked up and Carly had gone with him. Mac had instructed him not to try to get statements out of anyone tonight; the fire had been a terrible event and none of the survivors were up for his unique brand of interrogation. Begrudgingly, Taggert had agreed; he himself was too tired to conduct proper statement sessions himself. There was much other work to be done tonight, anyway – it would be a while before he got to go home to the Brownstone.

His tired eyes found the Commissioner among the thinning crowd. He was conversing with Garcia and the head of the special team responsible for scouring the wreckage. Taggert turned his face away and instantly caught the casual glance of the fire chief. Tipping his head at his old friend and colleague, the detective slowly shuffled further away from the ruined warehouse.

A couple of Corinthos' bodyguards stood in a loose huddle, not talking, not smoking, not moving, not doing much of anything. Taggert was too tired to walk up to them so he let it go. His hands found the warm depths of his pockets as his eyes slowly traveled along before him, coming to a rest on two young people he knew very well.

The lieutenant frowned at the scene: Lucky Spencer stood towering in front of a ramrod-stiff Elizabeth, yelling and gesturing furiously. But the young woman stood her ground wordlessly, not even flinching as the young man continued his tirade. Taggert was too far away to hear the exact words being exchanged, but he could see clearly as Lucky claimed a step forward aggressively, snarling something bitterly at Elizabeth. Both men's eyes widened in surprise when Elizabeth calmly took a step back and deliberately dropped the armful of roses she still held, letting them crash to the floor for a second time and staring defiantly back up at her boyfriend.

Lucky looked as if he had the wind knocked out of him and without another word the young man turned hard on his heel and stormed away. Elizabeth hooked her thumbs into the pocket of her black coat, casually glancing away and suddenly found herself staring at Lieutenant Taggert.

She sucked in a quick breath of air when she saw him, certainly not expecting to have had an audience. The detective pursed his lips and directed a look of pure concern at her before nodding his head once and shuffling away. He had seen her drop the roses the first time, and he had seen the look on her face earlier. It was the same one that Morgan had on his face. Taggert knew all too well what that look meant, and he knew all too well what the argument between Elizabeth and Lucky had been about. After all, he hadn't been born yesterday and he had certainly seen this one coming. He just hoped for the young brunette's sake that she knew what she was doing. And that she stayed safe.

Elizabeth ran a trembling hand through her silky chestnut locks, forcing herself to take deep breaths. The recent conversation had not been an easy one and she was admittedly happy that Lucky had stormed off. Tonight had been the straw that broke the camel's back – after his deprecating and insensitive remarks in the face of possible tragedy, she knew she couldn't look at him the same way again. Somewhere along the way, he had lost some of the compassion that made him so uniquely Lucky and if she were honest with herself, she knew that she didn't want anything to do with this cold, unfeeling Lucky.

Her sapphire eyes, weary but hopeful, scanned the scene of the fire quickly as Elizabeth held her breath. Right now, she only wanted to see one man. Her eyes darted from the ruined warehouse to the ambulances still stationed nearby to the thinning crowd of people. He wasn't anywhere to be found. Slowly, she ambled forward, searching for him in the dark corners and shaded areas, hoping to see his alarmingly blue eyes lurking in the dark. No luck.

Jason Morgan had already disappeared.

**A river keeps rising when its bed is not available.  
****When my nature becomes damned, it just keeps moving. **


	5. 05

**Chapter Five of Blaze contains NC-17 material and cannot be posted on However, the explicit material is so inextricably woven into the text of the story that it would be ridiculous to even attempt to extricate it and clean up the chapter for posting here. If you would like to read the chapter, please follow the link in my profile to my personal archives, "Solo Ensemble". Thank you. **


	6. 06

_**When a human being becomes used to sorrow, then sorrow disappears;  
Obstacle after obstacle fell on me, and the road was easy.**_

The sunlight was streaming in through the blinds, falling in neat pinstripes across Jason's bare chest. Elizabeth's cheek was pressed against his shoulder, her arm limply thrown over the hard plane of his chest as she slept. Her dark chocolate hair was fanned out across his shoulder and pillow and their bodies were pressed together under the covers.

Jason was the first to wake up, blinking slowly as the sunlight shone into his eyes. The room was warm and cozy and even though he was too stiff to move, he was almost…comfortable. Especially since the only thing separating Elizabeth's soft, warm body from his was a thin cotton t-shirt.

His hand rubbed the curve of her hip soothingly as a slow smile ran across his lips. It didn't take long for his thoughts to drift back to the events in the shower the night before, and his body began to hum pleasantly under the flow of memories. Elizabeth murmured something in her sleep and shifted against him, and Jason turned his nose into her hair and inhaled. She smelled like his soap, she was wearing his shirt and nothing else, and she was in his bed. It just couldn't get any better than this.

She awoke slowly, as if reluctantly letting go of the soft blanket of sleep that stretched over her. Jason watched, utterly enamored, as she blinked her eyes lazily, those dark, hazy sapphire orbs slowly taking in her surroundings. She shifted her body slightly, lifting herself up a little on one elbow as she regained her bearings, and he could see the flicker of surprise that ran across those expressive eyes. His heart sank when he realized that maybe she didn't feel the same way she did last night, but then those still-sleepy orbs met his and Elizabeth smiled warmly.

That single smile warmed his heart and chased all his doubts away, and Jason's eyes twinkled up at her as she braced herself on her elbow and grinned down at him. There was a mischievous glimmer in her eyes that told him her mind was going back to relive _exactly _what he had been reliving.

"Good morning."

He just couldn't resist. "It will be if you take your shirt off."

She rolled her eyes with a grin and gently leaned down to kiss him. He responded eagerly, limply grasping her neck with one hand because his arms still hurt, and Elizabeth braced herself above him and kissed him long and hard. She could feel his body heat soak through her shirt and the brunette pulled back before he got too excited.

"Unbelievable," she whispered, dropping kisses on his rough, stubbly cheek. "You're unbelievable."

"Unbelievably good in bed, you mean," he murmured, turning his face into hers and seizing her lips once more. "Take off your shirt and I'll show you just _how _good."

"I'll take your word for it for now," she replied saucily, pulling away and twining their fingers together. "How are you feeling?"

"Stiff," he replied honestly, wincing after trying to move. "Very stiff."

"I think I'm going to call the doctor now," she replied, sitting up and brushing her hair back out of her face. He could hear the concern in her voice, the guilt over having put it off this long even though he'd ask her to. "You need to get checked out."

"Can't you take care of me?" he asked softly, reaching for her again. She allowed him to pull her back down and cuddled up against him, her palm flat over his steadily beating heart.

"I can't set broken bones, Jason," she whispered with a chuckle despite the fact that she didn't find anything funny about the situation.

"I don't think my ribs are broken."

"Well, a doctor can tell us for sure," she reasoned, reluctantly rising up out of bed. "I'm going to ask one of the guards to call him and have him come right over."

"Elizabeth, wait-" His eyes darted to hers as she got out of bed, the cranberry colored t-shirt still hanging off her body. Jason knew he couldn't put it off much longer – despite the fact that they both actually seemed to be on the same page about last night, they still had some things they needed to discuss and get out in the open. "We need to talk-"

The shrill ring of his cell phone on the nightstand interrupted him. Seeing that he wouldn't be able to reach the slim silver device, Elizabeth quickly scooped it up, turned it on, and handed it to him as he lay in bed. Jason's intense blue eyes never left hers as he spoke into the receiver.

"Morgan."

_"Jason. It's me."_

"Sonny." He shifted slightly in bed as Elizabeth bit her lip and crept away to get dressed, not wanting to impose. "What do you need?"

_"Just wanted to see how you were doing."_

"Oh."

A brief pause.

_"Well? How are you doing?"_

"Fine, fine," he got out, his eyes darting over to Elizabeth as she pulled her jeans on and the enforcer noticed with due appreciation that she was going commando – probably because both their undergarments were lying in a soggy puddle on the floor of his shower. "How are you feeling?"

_"Okay. Carly took me to the hospital last night. Slight concussion, they said, and I'm supposed to stay off my feet for a couple days because of that beam that fell on my legs. They said I was lucky I didn't break anything."_

"Yeah, that's good." His gaze was still trained on her as she whisked his shirt off and pulled on her sweatshirt before searching for her purse and keys.

_"So? What's your story?"_

"Huh? Oh. Uh…Nothing much. Superficial cuts, and I think I did something to my ribs."

_"Well, you'd better get that checked out as soon as possible,"_ his boss and best friend commanded. _"Why haven't you called someone already? That's dangerous, Jason-"_

The enforcer's eyes widened when Elizabeth turned and waved to him, signaling that she was going to leave. Without thinking, he called out to her. "Wait, Eliza-"

Sonny's laughter cut him off. _"Wait, wait – Elizabeth's there? Hell, no wonder you didn't call a doctor!"_

Jason growled into the phone, still looking at the petite brunette. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him, buttoning her coat. "I'm just going to go call the doctor and pick up some breakfast, okay? You talk to Sonny – I'm sure you have some…business to clear up. I'll be back in a flash – I promise."

Reluctantly, he nodded and watched her flash him a quick smile before slipping out of the room. Sighing, Jason settled back on the pillows and listened to Sonny's laughing voice tease him right before Carly squawked with disgust in the background and the moblord turned to comforting her instead of teasing him.

Outside, Elizabeth had almost collided with Francis the instant she stepped out of the room. She stammered out a hello, utterly mortified at the thought of Francis knowing that she had been with Jason all night – and most likely having a pretty good idea of what they were doing all night besides sleeping. The bodyguard didn't say anything much, but his little smirk said enough as he followed her down the stairs. After he ordered Adam to take his post and call the mob doctor, the two of them exited the establishment to the waiting car outside.

"Where to, Elizabeth?" Francis asked out of habit, sliding into the limo behind her and pulling the door shut.

Her sapphire eyes glittered merrily. "We're going to go pick up a special Webber Anytime Remedy for Jason. Kelly's, please."

* * *

Penny Twan poked her head out of the little kitchen above the swinging green double doors, not even slightly phased at the sight of Elizabeth standing in the cozy diner with an armed guard at her side. "It'll be ready in about ten minutes, okay, Elizabeth?"

The brunette smiled gratefully at her friend. "Thank you, Penny – you have no idea how much this means to me."

"It's not a problem," the Taiwanese waitress smiled warmly back. She had more than a vague suspicion as to what this particular order was for – or who it was for, rather. The news had spread all over town – how Jason and Elizabeth had stared each other down as the world burned around them, and how Elizabeth later broke things off with Lucky and disappeared herself. It didn't take much to surmise her whereabouts for the rest of the night. "You wanna hang around until it's ready?"

The brunette nodded, sliding her purse off her arm and taking off her coat. "I'm going to make some coffee, too, while I'm at it, okay?"

"Sure thing," her friend chirped, disappearing behind the double doors to finish preparing the order. "Just holler if you need me."

Francis glanced around the diner and shuffled up to the counter as Elizabeth began to pour two cups of coffee. "I can't believe you work here."

She glanced up at him, a little smile curving her lips. "I can't believe you never come here."

The bodyguard shrugged guiltily. "Well…I normally grab something from the little shop by the offices."

"Oh, Francis," the little brunette huffed playfully, sliding him his steaming coffee and the sugar. "When will you learn? Nothing can beat Kelly's coffee and turnovers – and our sandwiches aren't half bad, either."

"Tell you what," the elderly Italian smiled, lifting his mug to his lips. "I'll make a point of stopping by more often – how's that?"

"That's wonderful," Elizabeth grinned happily. "In fact-"

"Well, isn't this cozy?"

Francis turned on his heel, his hand already at his hip holster just in case, and both he and Elizabeth stared in shock at the intruder. Lucky Spencer, dressed in blue jeans and a navy blue down jacket, flipped his long blonde locks out of his face and stared coldly at his ex-girlfriend and her guard. His steely blue eyes flashed angrily and his lips were pursed in a thin white line as the boy rolled forward smoothly, a veritable panther cornering its prey.

"L-Lucky." Elizabeth blinked at him, not knowing what to say but knowing as sure as her next breath that this was going to be ugly.

He scowled darkly at her as Francis drew himself up to his full height, standing by protectively. "You've come outta hiding, huh?"

The brunette calmly set her coffee mug down on the counter and looked back at him with as much dignity as she could muster. "Francis and I are here for breakfast."

Lucky's lips curled into a sneer as he gave the stoic bodyguard the once-over. "Francis, huh? Tell me, Elizabeth – you doin' him, too?"

"Little shitpot-"

Elizabeth grabbed her friend's bicep through his suit jacket as Francis cursed and moved toward the younger man with murderous intent. "It's okay, it's okay. I'll handle this."

"I think you should let me handle it," Francis groused, his gray eyes narrowed lethally at the fuming young blonde.

Lucky rolled his eyes, lifting his arms to the side and puffing out his chest. "What, tough guy? You gonna shoot me right in the middle of Kelly's?"

The boy's stupidity only made Francis' blood boil. "If you take one step behind this counter, then, yeah, you can bet your ass on it."

Lucky glared hard at him, glowering as his eyes darted to Elizabeth who stood safely out of reach, protected first by Francis and then the glistening counter. "This is between me and _Elizabeth_."

The petite brunette gulped at the hatred which cloaked his voice as he said her name, and she could feel Francis' anger radiate off of him as the older man struggled to keep his temper in check. "You don't own her, pipsqueak," he growled, easing himself back onto the red leather stool but keeping his body tense. "So if you don't mind, I'm just going to sit pretty while you _talk_."

The young Spencer steeled his jaw, sensing the futility of the situation, and his cold topaz eyes arrested Elizabeth's. "Where were you last night, Elizabeth?"

Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter as the brunette reminded herself that she didn't have to answer to him anymore. "That's none of your business, Lucky."

"Fine, don't answer," he shrugged, feigning an amicable tone even though a hard glint flickered through his eyes. "I know the answer anyway." His stare bore into hers, turning her blood cold. "You were fucking that brain-dead asshole Morgan."

Francis was on his feet before Lucky could even finish his sentence, and the bodyguard's strong hands instantly fisted in the boy's jacket as he pushed him back forcefully. He heard Elizabeth yelling his name but he didn't care, pushing Lucky's back against the wall of the diner with such power that the structure rattled.

"You listen to me and you listen good," he growled, lifting the boy a good two inches off the floor and watching with satisfaction as Lucky's eyes turned fearful. "I don't give a shit that you're Luke's son – you watch your mouth around her. Is that clear?"

"Francis, put him down," Elizabeth commanded, jerking on his shoulder and looking fearfully up at the darkened stairwell. They were causing such a racket that she was afraid one of the boarders would come down, see Francis assaulting Lucky, and then call the cops to haul his ass off to jail. Sonny and Jason had enough problems as it was – they didn't need to deal with one of their top guards cooling his heels in a holding cell. "Francis, please."

With a grunt, the hardened bodyguard released Lucky and watched as the boy crashed to the ground. Elizabeth's arms were looped through one of his as her ex-boyfriend picked himself up gingerly, the fire still blazing in his eyes. "This isn't over, Elizabeth."

A harsh chuckle escaped her as Francis wrapped an arm protectively around her waist from the front, attempting to push her behind his broad back, but the brunette didn't budge an inch. "That's where you're wrong, Lucky – it's over, all right."

"It-"

"I left you," she replied in a deathly calm voice, her sapphire orbs turning hard and cold like his had been. "It was something I should have done a long time ago, but I didn't. I stayed. I stayed even though my heart was telling me to go. I stayed because I wanted to help you, I wanted to help you the way you helped me."

Francis watched from the corner of his eyes as she shook her head once. "But now – this…You don't want to help me anymore, Lucky. You just want me to stay with you and live the way you want me to. And I can't do that."

"I never said-"

"You don't get to dictate what I do, where I go," she ticked off on her fingers, her other hand curling into a fist at her side. "And you don't get to tell me who my friends are."

Lucky's lips curled in disgust at the unmistaken message behind that last line. "Some friend," he sneered. "Fuck-buddy's more like it."

Francis surged forward, seeming fully intent on breaking the boy's neck, but Elizabeth dug her heels into the floor and held him back. "It's not about love anymore, Lucky," she continued in a lethally deliberate voice. She didn't care if she was hurting him – she was done caring about him altogether. "It's about control. Power. And I'm sorry to break it to you-" those dark sapphire eyes glittered wickedly "-but you ain't got it anymore."

Penny crept out from the kitchen holding two containers, sealed and ready to go, and hung back, observing the encounter. She had almost been afraid to come out, but then the order had been ready and she reasoned that Elizabeth would probably want to leave here sooner rather than later. She had come out just in time to see Elizabeth defiantly flip her hair back and really give it to her manipulative, cold-hearted ex-lover.

"I'm not in love with you, Lucky," she declared in a low voice. "I don't know when I fell out of love with you. You know what else I don't know? When I fell _in _love with Jason."

A muscle in Francis' jaw ticked as he watched Lucky's body tense. He had always pegged Elizabeth as a sweet-tempered young woman, but he was rapidly realizing that she gave as good as she got and wasn't afraid to get on anyone's toes – or stomp all over someone's colossal ego.

"So you see, Lucky, it _is _over." She slipped her fingers casually into her back pocket, cocking her head at her former boyfriend. "Jason's with me, I'm with him, and you're alone. And you can rot in Hell for all I care."

Without bothering to spare him a second glance, the brunette turned on her heel and snatched up her coat and purse. Penny's stunned, wide eyes met hers and Elizabeth quickly grabbed the two containers from her as well. Francis held out one arm for her, wrapping it around her shoulders as she approached and shouldering his way past Lucky so that the young man stumbled back against the jukebox.

She stepped into the freezing February morning clad only in her jeans and sweatshirt – she hadn't bothered to put on her coat in her haste to leave – and Francis quickly ushered her to the waiting car. They got in and as the driver pulled away, the elderly Italian bodyguard noticed with a prick of satisfaction that his young charge didn't glance back once.

* * *

"Pick us up at the other side," Francis instructed the driver as he and Elizabeth got out of the limo. The little brunette had requested quietly that she'd like to take a walk through the park to clear her head. Besides, she figured that they should probably give Sonny and Jason some more time to sort through business matters. And so Francis had tucked the two sealed containers away in the back of the limo and instructed the chauffeur to pick them up at the other entrance to the park.

Her hands were stuffed into the pockets of her coat as Elizabeth shuffled down the pathway with her guard at her side. Francis watched her carefully, a small frown tensing his features. Her head was lowered, her gaze on the ground directly in front of her, and her lips were pursed in deep thought. And he didn't like it.

He wasn't a fool to not realize the gravity of what had happened back at the diner. It was no secret how Lucky and Elizabeth had come together, and how the petite brunette had been inconsolable when he had supposedly passed away. But he had no idea of the troubles in Paradise that were building up from before his boss even showed up in town again. He had no idea about the ultimatums, the orders, the tantrums – and the knowledge of the little blonde psycho's mind games made him want to go back to Kelly's and ram the little shitpot's skull through the window.

But the biggest shock was the vehemence with which Elizabeth spoke to him. He hadn't been present for the showdown the night before, when the defiant little brunette had chucked her flowers to the ground for the second time – this time, purposefully. Because of that, he had no basis for comparison for the little conversation at the diner. She had not only told him that she didn't love him – a shocking declaration to begin with – but she had told him that she was in love with Jason and that not only that, Lucky could rot in Hell.

And now she was completely silent and staring at her feet as she shuffled through the park, and that worried him. Keeping a steady pace at her side, the bodyguard glanced down at his oblivious little charge. Had she told Jason how she felt? Or had she just said all that about loving him out of spite? He wouldn't blame her if she had – after all, it was in the heat and anger of the moment and everyone always said over-the-top things when they flew off the handle.

But Francis almost hated to think about that. As much as the guards pretended that nothing was out of the ordinary, they had all picked up on how their boss' relationship with his petite little artist friend had changed. She wasn't just the friend that had pulled him out of the snow and nursed Jason back to health – she was much more. It was clear that the enforcer _wanted _her, and it was oddly disconcerting to come into work and have to watch the love-struck mobster fake a platonic relationship with the young woman.

And if Elizabeth didn't mean what she had said, especially after what presumably happened between the two of them the previous night…well, then, he'd be sure to request out-of-town assignments immediately just to keep out Jason's way when the news broke.

Still lost in his thoughts, Francis looked up in surprise when he noticed that Elizabeth was walking ahead of him a couple steps now. There was a noticeable spring in her step when he caught up with her, and when Francis looked down into her eyes, he found them sparkling and surprisingly content. She flashed him a little smile and tossed her bangs out of her hair as they continued their brisk walk, and Francis couldn't help the little smirk that claimed his lips. Sometimes, it seemed that he, his friends, and their boss worried a bit too much over nothing.

* * *

"You're a good girl, Carly."

The tall blonde tossed her bodyguard a wry smirk over her shoulder. "Cram it, Johnny."

"No, I'm serious," the Irishman laughed, lifting up the paper bag he held. "Who else would run out at this hour just to fetch their husband a few bottles of freshly squeezed orange juice?" He snickered wickedly as she punched his shoulder, switching the bag to the other hand and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. "You're a good woman, Carly Brown."

"And you're getting a pay cut," she laughed despite herself, matching steps with her favorite bodyguard. "Hey, as long as Sonny doesn't make _me _drink any of the stuff, I'm perfectly happy to be Florence Nightingale for him."

They continued walking easily through the park, taking the shortcut to Teddy's house, which was right near the Brownstone. She had let her son stay there for the night, not wanting him to come home to a penthouse full of doctors and Sonny's blood. But now that her husband was all bandaged up and healing nicely – and all the bloody clothing and sheets had been thrown away – it was time to bring her boy home.

The pair rounded the corner and practically collided with another pair, and Johnny reached for his holster immediately, blinking when he saw that Francis was doing the same.

"John?"

"Sorry, Francis," his friend muttered, dropping his coat back in place. The Irishman's green eyes darted over to Francis' charge as Elizabeth and Carly sized each other up warily. Sure, they had been on speaking terms during the fire, but that was yesterday – no telling what today would bring.

"What are you two doing out here?" Carly asked suspiciously, looking from Francis to Elizabeth and back again.

"We…went to Kelly's," Elizabeth got out awkwardly, stuffing her hands back in her pockets. "I wanted to pick us up some, um…breakfast."

The 'us' didn't go unnoticed by Carly, and the blonde instantly recognized the situation. Little Miss Muffin had spent the night with Jason – and was now running out to get him some food just like she was running out to get Sonny some fresh juice. If the whole damn thing wasn't so disturbing, she would have laughed.

"Yeah, we're, uh, doing the same."

Elizabeth smiled politely at Johnny, her brows furrowing when she noticed the heavy bag in his hands. "What's that?"

Carly glanced at her guard and shifted her weight from one high-heeled snakeskin boot to the other. "Orange juice." Elizabeth nodded, and the blonde quirked a brow at her. "Why?" she challenged, a hint of amusement in her voice. "What did you get?"

Elizabeth grinned crookedly, tossing her bangs out of her eyes. "Chicken noodle soup."

And Carly Corinthos, for all her trash-talking and smart-mouthing, just couldn't help herself – she laughed. Seeing her laugh, Elizabeth joined in with a chuckle as the two bewildered guards just stared at each other.

"Oh, shit, we gotta go," Carly huffed, still smirking, as she grabbed Johnny by the elbow. "Before this gets any weirder and I invite you to go shopping or something like that."

Elizabeth easily stepped aside to let the two pass without a goodbye – though, to his credit, Johnny did tip his head at her – and smirked up at Francis. "Not a word to Jason."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Elizabeth – besides, it's not like he'd believe me anyway."

* * *

The doctor had just finished bandaging Jason up when Elizabeth quietly slipped back into the room. The enforcer shot her a smile that made her knees melt as Dr. Coates scrounged around in his medical bag for some bottles, and Elizabeth set the paper bag she carried onto the dresser and took off her coat.

"Good morning, Miss-"

"Webber," she supplied to the dark-haired Spanish doctor, clasping her hands behind her back and moving closer to the bed and the patient. "But, please, call me Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth," he affirmed in a gruff voice, extending his hand to shake hers. "I'm Dr. Guillermo Coates – call me Bill." She smiled at that and nodded her head once as he placed a couple bottles in her hand. "The small white ones – make sure Jason takes those every morning with food, and without delay. The red ones are for night, right before he goes to sleep, and the larger yellow ones are to be taken three times daily with food. You've basically got your painkillers and antibiotics there, and if he takes them regularly until they're gone, he'll be just fine. If you have any questions – either of you – please don't hesitate to call me up. Jason has my number, don't you, Jason?"

The enforcer confirmed it with a tip of his head, his intense eyes straying again toward Elizabeth's slim figure as she studied the medicine.

"If he complains of any dizziness or migraines while on the medication, please be sure to call me immediately," Dr. Coates continued. "I'll give him a milder dosage and we'll see how that works. Remember, if there are any problems or concerns, give me a call."

"I will," Elizabeth replied with a grateful smile. "Thank you for stopping by."

The doctor nodded at them both and excused himself, quietly slipping out of the room, and Elizabeth set the bottles carefully on the desk in a neat little line. Jason's eyes arrested hers as soon as she turned around, and Elizabeth flashed him a sly little grin as she bent to scoop his maroon t-shirt off the chair where she had left it. She faced him this time while she changed, whisking her gray and pink sweatshirt over her head, hearing him groan at the sight of her bare chest underneath, and then pulled on the shirt she had worn the previous night. She wasted no time shucking her jeans and throwing them onto the recliner, and Jason's good arm reached for her as she slid under the covers to join him.

"You were gone for a long time."

She tilted her head, bracing herself over him on one elbow. "I know. I thought I'd pick us up some food and let you and Sonny work things out. Got back just in time, though."

He smiled in agreement and tugged lightly on the back of her neck, seeking her lips, and Elizabeth complied readily. She made love to his mouth, her soft lips pressing firmly against his warm ones, her hair cascading around them in a curtain of chocolate silk. She could feel him fidget beneath her and the brunette pulled away slowly, peering down into his mystical blue eyes.

"How you feeling?"

"Better now that you're back," he replied honestly, smiling down at her as she cuddled up against his shoulder. "What's in the bag?"

Elizabeth glanced at the dresser and then up at him, a wicked glint in her sapphire eyes. "Take a wild guess."

"Oh, no…"

"Chicken noodle soup!"

Jason covered his eyes with a moan, unable to suppress the little smile that crept to his lips at the sound of her laughter. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?"

"First off, you're hardly well enough, and second, no, I'm never going to leave you alone," she smirked, bracing herself up on one elbow.

The enforcer sobered up at her words and removed his hand from his face, now looking directly into her eyes. "Listen, Elizabeth, we need to talk."

She quieted down with a slight nod, nibbling on her lower lip until Jason pressed his thumb to it and pulled it free. "Okay."

"About last night…"

Try as she would, she just couldn't contain the mischievous grin that instantly curled her lips as memories of that steamy shower came to mind. "About last night…"

He quirked a brow at her, knowing that he was being teased. "I…I don't want you to-"

One finger to his lips instantly silenced him, and Elizabeth gazed back at him seriously. "Just stop right there, Jason." He stared at her, confused, and the brunette had to swallow roughly before she could continue. "I know what you're going to say – and I'm telling you right now that you're wrong. I'm not here because…because I feel like I have to be. Because I feel bad or worse, _sorry _for you. That's not why I showed up last night. That's not why I stayed."

He linked their fingers together, admiring the paleness of her smooth skin against the darkness of his rough hand. "I'm glad that you stayed."

A sweet smile kicked up the corner of her mouth. "Me, too." She paused for a moment as he kissed the back of her hand, a gesture so innocent and romantic that it damn near brought tears to her eyes. "Jason, I-"

"I know it was kinda fast," he cut in quietly, his intense eyes still glued to their hands. He just couldn't bear to look at her for the moment – right now, he just had to get this out. "I didn't expect it to happen either."

She raked her fingertips through the soft golden hair at his temple. "It feels right, though." The second hand on the clock quietly ticked as the brunette peered at him timidly. "Doesn't it?"

He was nodding with such conviction that Elizabeth didn't doubt him for a minute. "Nothing ever felt more right to me, Elizabeth."

His husky voice brought tears to her eyes and Elizabeth leaned in a little closer. "I saw Lucky at Kelly's today, when I picked up the soup with Francis." Her fingers gently stroked his cheek, soothing him, as Jason's eyes turned to ice. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told him." Her heart constricted painfully in her chest, and Elizabeth was unaware of the fact that Jason, too, was holding his breath. "I'm with you. And it's because I'm in love with you."

The breathless, whispered confession cut through all his defenses instantly, and Jason lifted a hand to cup her cheek and pull her to him. "Elizabeth, I love you, too."

She chuckled with relief, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead against his. "Good to know that we're both actually on the same page, huh?"

"For once," Jason agreed in a rusty voice, combing his fingers through her soft chocolate locks and content to just hold her close. Elizabeth turned her face, her soft lips gently seeking his, and Jason returned the tender caress, deepening it gradually until their tongues were mating in a sensual dance. The kiss was long and intoxicating, stealing their breaths and clouding their minds with a rich, hazy fog.

Jason's breathing was erratic when they finally broke apart, panting for air, and his voice was almost desperate as he speared his fingers through her silky hair, frantically seeking her lips once more. "Thank you for taking care of me."

She resisted him long enough to gaze deeply into his startlingly blue eyes, and Jason could see the moisture that pooled in her wide orbs, clinging to the curly raven lashes in fat droplets. "I'll always take care of you, Jason," she whispered. "Just like you've always taken care of me."

He pulled her soft, yielding body to his, kissing her deeply and ignoring the pain that still lingered upon impact. She was his; he was hers completely. And despite the heartache, the anger, the loss and yearning, and all the harsh pain, it was the best Valentine's Day he had ever known when she molded herself against him, kissing him in affirmation of the love they shared as the chicken noodle soup cooled, abandoned on the dresser.

**_Let there be no more sleep ever, because she promised  
In my dream she would meet me in real life.  
_**

**The End.

* * *

**

**Author's Note:**

_I cannot believe I have finished this story. This wonderfully heart-breaking, terribly daunting story. But I'm just so proud of it that I could burst. This story was supposed to be a simple six-parter that I'd have completed and wrapped up in under a month, but it turned into so much more. It was heartache by the chapter as I brought myself back to that wonderful and at the same time terrible scene – Jason fallen to the ground in front of the burning warehouse, Elizabeth dropping those symbolic roses._

_Pallas was the one that said that scene was in her opinion the pivotal Liason scene, and I couldn't agree more. In that scene, you saw Liason for what they were at their core: two people so desperately in love with each other and too weak to struggle against what kept them apart. That was why this story was such a challenge for me as I continued to write it: That scene was so incredible, Steve and Becky's performances so alarmingly perfect, that I felt I would never be able to do it justice. I'm not sure at this point even that I have, but I know that I am damn proud of what has taken shape under my clumsy fingers._

_Blaze is a whirlwind, and I couldn't be more pleased. Blaze. Friendship Set On Fire. It has been such an honor – a personal triumph – to write this story, and I thank those of you that shared it with me. Your kind words of support and encouragement will not be forgotten, and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you all._


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